


Watch the Door

by Onlymostydead



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Coming Out, Confessions of love, Friendly banter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post Chorus Maybe??, References to Canonical Injuries, Trans Dick Simmons, Trans Lavernius Tucker, Trans Male Character, Transphobia mention, alcohol mention, birth mention, referenced canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymostydead/pseuds/Onlymostydead
Summary: When the rest of the reds and blues are all off doing something with Kimball, Simmons and Tucker are left behind, where they discover they have more in common than they thought.And where Tucker decides that he's got to set up Grif and Simmons for real.





	Watch the Door

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 15! SAT tomorrow morning! Fuck!

"So." Tucker frowned, kicking his legs up onto the table. "They really all left us here, huh?"

"Apparently." Simmons grumbled. "You can go do... Whatever the hell you do in your spare time. I'll wait here and watch the door."

"No, no... I'll wait here with you."

Simmons frowned. With almost everyone else - Sarge, Grif, Donut, the Blues, even Genkins and all of them - gone with Kimball, who had to be the unlucky one to be left behind at the base? Him. Of course, they couldn't just leave him alone here to stand guard, even though there was no real danger, so Tucker was here too, but...

That was worse. Tucker was kinda gross most of the time, with how he always talked in constant innuendo, adding a dumb "Bow Chicka Bow Wow" to nearly everything. Honestly, he preferred Donut's... Donut-ness to that. 

But he was stuck here. With Tucker. Who apparently, was dedicated to keeping him company. They had never been friends before, what was with the sudden burst of loyalty?

"So..." Tucker tapped his fingers on the table. "We're kind of the freaks of nature on our teams, huh?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You know, cyborg?" He explained, pulling off his own helmet. "That's pretty freaky."

"Fair." Simmons rolled his eyes, leaving his helmet on.

Tucker, "Freak of nature" though he claimed he was, was still quite the good looking guy. His dark brown dreadlocks were swept back into a low ponytail, framing his face. He clearly took good care of his skin, his dark complexion smooth and damn close to perfect. For a while he had been telling people that the freaky alien shit had turned his eyes an aqua color, but they were so dark they looked black, not even a hint of blue. 

How he looked so good was a mystery to Simmons. The guys lips weren't even chapped. Meanwhile, he felt like he looked like he'd been through a meat grinder.

Yeah, he was hot, that was for sure. If only he could like him instead. Sure, crushing on Tucker would be embarrassing, but... At least he'd have a chance of getting over him.

Probably?

Unlike now. Right now? He was fucked.

"And me - well, you know about me." Tucker added with a shrug. "Junior's doing well, but that doesn't make the whole thing any less weird to my team."

"Well, yeah. Duh." He scoffed. "You gave birth to an alien. How the fuck does that work, anyway?"

"Uhh... Like birth?"

"No, asshole, that's not what I meant." Simmons rolled his eyes. "Did Doc do a C-section? Better question, did you survive a C-section from Doc? Did it- he, crawl out of your asshole? Where the fuck-"

Tucker burst out laughing. He went from relaxing, chilling with his legs up on the table to doubled over in a moment, howling and snorting, dying for a solid minute.

He could feel himself turning bright red, the coolant systems in his robot half working overtime to try to keep from overheating.

"From my- from my asshole?"

"What the hell am I supposed to think?" Simmons crossed his arms, turning his head toward the door. "You're a guy for fuck's sake, Tucker-"

Tucker stopped, then slowly leaned forward on the table. "Wait. Do you... You really think I'm cis, don't you?"

"You're not?"

"No!" He sat straight up, shaking his head. "Fuck no, dude. I'm trans as hell."

Simmons blinked, lifting off his helmet and setting it on the end of the table next to Tucker's. Thoughts raced through his head at a hundred miles an hour. He wasn't the only one here? How did he not know? Had he not been paying attention, or was he...

No, he just never paid attention to Tucker before; it was as simple as that.

But this - this changed everything! He wasn't alone! 

Simmons swallowed. "You're trans too?"

"Wait." Tucker put his hands on the table. "You're trans?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I'm, uh.. I'm trans, too."

"So there's two of us now?"

Simmons nodded. "I guess."

They both sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other, then looking at the door.

"I feel like we should have found this out years ago." Tucker breathed, leaning back in his chair again, propping up his feet. "Like, jeez, two trans guys in the army?"

"Yeah, what are the odds?" He scoffed. "Kinda ridiculous."

"No shit. Why the fuck did you join?"

Simmons shrugged. "What, are we telling each other life stories?"

"Well, how long are the others going to be gone?" Tucker pointed out. "I thought that the army would like, be a hot, masculine job that would give me enough money to back going to college for something else eventually."

He raised an eyebrow. "What would you have gone to college for?"

"Don't know. I was going to figure it out while I was here. You know, get my life together."

Simmons scoffed. "Well, have you figured it out?"

"Nope." Tucker shrugged. "I'll get a job to support Junior, but at this point? I'm just tired of working."

"Honestly, yeah."

He chuckled, raising a perfect eyebrow. "What, you're tired of working too? You never seem to be. You never stop."

Simmons rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I like to get things done."

"But what about when you don't need to? A lot of this is just... Meaningless."

"Don't say that."

Tucker sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "Why not?"

"Because..." Simmons groaned. "You're going to get me to explain why I'm here anyway, aren't you? Fuck, I feel like we should be drinking."

"Probably, but do you have any booze?"

"No." He rolled his eyes. "I joined the army to prove myself. That I was good enough."

"Jeez." Tucker winced. "That's rough."

"Yeah." Simmons crossed his arms. "So it's been an interesting ride."

"No kidding."

"But it's fine." He added quickly. "I'm over that, now. Just, you know. When you're a twenty-something year old idiot who thinks that the military will solve all of your problems..."

"You know..." Tucker tipped his head to the side. "I feel you on that one."

"What, on the disappointment?"

"Pretty much." He laughed. "Disappointed in the number of chicks around, too."

Simmons rolled his eyes. "Do you just do that to make yourself feel like more of a man?"

"Whoa! Going straight to the point!" Tucker took his legs down from the table, sitting normally again. "I mean, at first, yeah... No, it was just to hide. It was definitely a cover-up."

"Yeah... Now that I know... That's obvious."

"Pfft, so I've been told." He shrugged. "But now? Now it's just my thing, you know? It's kinda funny."

"No, it..." Simmons decided that wasn't worth it, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"Exactly." Tucker grinned. "And you're just a hard ass all the time. That's your thing."

"Hey!"

"What!? It's true." He shrugged, still smirking. "Wait, does your team know?"

"Well, yeah." Simmons frowned, pointing at the cyborg portion of his face. "Sarge has seen me completely butt naked. Grif has one of my top surgery scars. And Donut... Found out at some point, I don't really now how."

"Jeez." Tucker's lip was curled in disgust. "I forgot your team performed like, nasty emergency surgery."

"How else did you think I became a cyborg!?"

"I don't know!" He shot back. "I guess I just forgot about the part where Grif has like, parts of your body, as his body, and that fucking Sarge did that to you."

Simmons rubbed the human side of his face in exasperation. "You see Grif's face all the time!"

"So? He could have a skin condition, like vitiligo or some shit. I don't care."

"Whatever." He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Man, all of Red Team are just freaks of nature, huh?"

"Actually, let's take back that phrasing." Tucker stated. "Unnatural freaks."

Simmons cringed. "If I didn't know you were trans right now..."

"Yeah, you're right, that does sound shitty, doesn't it?" He thought aloud, leaning his face into his hands. "This isn't like, a yearbook. Most unnatural couple: Simmons and Grif!"

"Wait, what!?" 

In seconds, Simmons was on his feet. The words replayed in his head, like he couldn't quite believe them. Couple? Simmons and Grif? Them, a couple? 

He wished that he could like literally anyone else. Tucker, Donut... Actually, maybe just those two because fuck the freelancers. Someone new, maybe. Just not him.

But of course...

Instead he was stuck in love with Dexter Grif. For years now. And it wasn't going away anytime soon, he knew that, but how did Tucker know?

"We are- that's not- we are not a couple!" He finally stammered out, face bright red, artificial heart pounding out of his chest. "Why would you even think that?"

"Wait, you're not?" Tucker's eyes widened. "Then why do you bicker like you're married, and hold each other's hands, and-"

"Because we're friends!" Simmons snapped. "Who need each other for support, who definitely aren't in love with each other!"

"Jeez, dude. You've got it bad."

He sighed, slinking back into his chair. "That obvious?"

"Yeah, man. Now that's rough. Really need the booze." Tucker reached across the table to pat his hand half-reassuringly. "You wanna talk about-"

"Not really."

"I just want to say... I totally support you two getting together." He added with an eyebrow waggle. "Just saying."

"You know what, Tucker- wait." Simmons frowned, brows furrowing for a moment as he tried to remember. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Tucker?"

"No, your first name."

"Oh." Tucker looked a little shy, turning his head away for a moment. "Lavernius."

"Lavernius." Simmons repeated. "That is a trans ass name."

"No shit." He grinned. "You know anybody else named Lavernius?"

"Nope."

"Exactly. I'm a unique experience. Bow chicka bow wow!" Tucker did finger guns, still smiling wide. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh, yeah..." Simmons snickered. "My name is Dick."

He snorted. "What?"

"Dick. Richard." He restated, sitting up a little straighter. "That's my name."

"Dude. That's a power move I didn't expect from you."

"What, you don't expect power moves from me?" Simmons raised an eyebrow. 

"...no, not really."

"Damn it. You should."

Tucker snickered. "I mean, you're more... I don't know, I mean... Yeah, I don't consider you and power moves. But naming yourself Dick?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Grif thinks it's fucking stupid, but to be honest? I still don't regret it."

"Yeah. People told me I'd regret being Lavernius, but here I am."

They both looked at each other, nodding in agreement.

"Weird that it's like this now, huh?" Simmons scoffed. "I mean, are people on your team gay?"

"Oh, yeah." Tucker rolled his eyes. "Who on my team isn't gay? Or queer, at least, in some form."

"That's what I meant."

"I figured."

Simmons nodded. "And Kimball is either chill, or queer herself, I don't know which-"

"She can't be straight." Tucker interrupted. "Right?"

"I mean, I don't think so?"

Silence, as they glanced at each other, the door, around the room... Neither of them really knew anything about Kimball's personal life, though, so... It was probably best to drop it. Technically, you can't make judgements based on appearance, but queer people also make themselves visible through appearance, do it was a tricky situation, that was for sure.

And there was no way in hell Simmons was ever going to ask her. She was busy, and his commanding officer, and that was inappropriate beyond belief.

"Never mind." Simmons finally blurted out.

Tucker quickly nodded in agreement. "Yeah, never mind."

"But everyone here... Is queer."

"Yeah." He breathed. "It's kinda incredible. Like, when I first got to Blood Gulch, I was super scared of anyone finding out I was trans, or bi, because it was just, you know, me Church and Flowers. And Flowers was fruitier than a fruit basket, but we were both wary of him, so I figured Church was straight and homophobic..."

Simmons raised an eyebrow. Was he just going to tell him all about when he got there? Apparently. Hopefully he wouldn't want him to reciprocate.

"Then Flowers died, and Caboose came along and was an idiot, and it wasn't for a long time that, you know, I actually found out that they weren't homophobic? But then Church and I were buddies and... Fuck, I miss him."

"I'm... Sorry."

Tucker shrugged. "You didn't know him, it's whatever. And it's complicated. But like, compared to that initial few months? Hiding and making awful jokes all the time to pretend to be a cis, straight dude? This is the good life."

He could tell he was focusing on that to ignore Church. Just like Simmons did when ignoring... Certain things. When ignoring his past. When ignoring the way that his left side still burned sometimes with phantom pain.

Simmons shrugged. "Yeah, it really is. I mean, the whole trans thing kinda got out there with the cyborg thing... Then Grif came out as pan to make me feel less awkward about being outed like that. So it wasn't... Okay, it was a big deal for a while on my team, but yeah, same thing."

Major understatement, but it seemed satisfactory.

"He's so into you, dude." Tucker insisted. "Come on, don't tell me you can't tell that Grif is absolutely in love with you."

"He... Isn't."

"Yes he is! Wake up!"

"I've been living with him for years, you think I would have noticed by now if he was into me?" Simmons scoffed, shoulders slumping. "No, he's... He's really not. Trust me on that one."

He groaned. "How. How are you two the only ones who can't see it?"

"Can we talk about something else! Jeez, fucking hell, Tucker, I thought I said I didn't want to talk about him."

"Fine. Fine." Tucker rolled his eyes. "But I'm just saying-"

"No, Tucker." Simmons cut him off. "Just... No."

The heater made a weird noise, but other than that, they sat in silence.

"Okay. Uh... So." He paused for a moment, glancing over at the door. "We're still stuck in here."

"Yep."

"Just the two of us."

Simmons's nose wrinkled. "Why do I have a feeling that I don't like where this is going?"

"It's not going anywhere, trust me." Tucker yawned. "Are you always this suspicious?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

He blinked. "Do you just bicker like that with everyone?"

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

"Like what, Lavernius Tucker." Simmons crossed his arms. "You're going to have to be more specific."

Tucker snickered. "Like you've been married for the past twenty years."

"I told you to stop talking about Grif!"

"I did!" He raised his hands in mock surrender. "You're the one who brought him up again."

Shit. He was right. Damn it.

"Whatever. Blue."

"And now you're calling me a blue?" Tucker was still holding back laughter, shaking his head. "Whatever, man. I'm just saying, we should try to get along, get to be buddies or something."

Simmons raised an eyebrow. "Why, 'cause we're the only two trans guys on this base, probably?"

"I mean... Yeah."

"You do have a point." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, I have Grif to talk to, so it's probably not as lonely for me."

"And I have Wash." Tucker pointed out. "But they still don't... Get it."

He was right. There were just things that, no matter what, they weren't going to understand. The irritation of getting testosterone this far out. The weirdness of being in locker rooms. In general. That kind of fear where he was either choosing between what everyone around him wanted him to be, or... Or living, really.

"Yeah." Simmons conceded in a soft voice. "Like, I mean... Was your family supportive?"

"My sisters were." He answered, looking more at his hand than anything else. "My mom was sad, I think, but like... She still loved me. My dad just... Didn't say anything. Still hasn't acknowledged it."

"Really? Like, what does he call you?"

"He doesn't." Tucker spat. "Just ignored me, mostly. Talked to me directly when he didn't. No, I got the fuck out of that house, and... Is it weird to say I'm doing better now? In the fucking army?"

"No. I mean, the war here's over." Simmons shrugged. "And I've been doing better for years. Not supportive, that's all I'll say."

He still had nightmares sometimes. Of all of the things they'd been through, that was one of the things that stuck? Getting possessed, his heart stopping, watching Grif nearly die, watching Donut die, watching countless others, die, die, die, and still his parents found a way to work their way into his nightmares still. It was ridiculous. He used to call himself weak, berate himself over it, do push ups and sit ups and work out until the point of exhaustion, but now... 

Now, more often than not, when he woke up, Grif was already in his bed, having heard him crying in his sleep. If not, he went to his quarters and crawled in. They'd been doing it since Blood Gulch, and...

And neither of them talked about it. And neither of them were going to, because it was a delicate balance that they needed in their lives.

"Hey, you okay, Simmons? Dick?" Tucker waved a hand in front of his face. "You alright there? You zoned out for a moment."

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. Just spacey." Simmons swallowed. "What were we talking about? Grif?"

"Dude." He grinned. "You really do keep bringing him up a lot for someone who doesn't want to talk about him."

"I- oh, fuck you. Where were we?"

"We were talking about if our homes were accepting or not." Tucker reminded, then paused, glancing over at the door with a smirk.

Weird. Oh well.

"Oh, right. 'Cause that's something that-"

"But, if you want to talk about how you're in love with Grif..." 

"No!" Simmons went as red as a tomato. "I absolutely, for the last time Tucker, do not want to talk about how I am in love with Dexter Grif!"

"You're in love with what!?" 

Grif's voice from the door startled him out of his seat, falling to the ground in an instant. 

Tucker, however, remained completely calm, still relaxed as ever in his chair. "Oh, hey guys."

That's what he was smirking at, the bastard.

"Don't, 'oh hey' me, Tucker." Grif pulled off his helmet, quickly striding over and adding it to the two on the table. "Who's in love with who, here?"

Tucker grinned down at Simmons, then winked. "You're welcome."

He scowled. "I'll get you back for this!"

"Uh, no! You owe me!"

Grif sucked in a breath. "Oh, wait. So you don't actually-"

"No, that's not," Simmons scrambled to his feet in front of him, still blushing bright red. "I, uh... Didn't want to ruin things between us, so I didn't tell you, and, uh... I love you?"

"Same?" He admitted, those chocolaty brown eyes wide with amazement.

Because Grif didn't have perfect skin, and nicely kept eyebrows, and nice hair. He wasn't easy to get along with, like other people, sure. But he was adorable, and perfect, and awful, and Simmons had been absolutely undeniably in love with him since they first met.

"So you-?"

Grif nodded, opening his mouth to speak, when-

"Grif! Simmons! Get your lazy asses over here!" Sarge barked waving them over.

"You have no authority over me!" Grif yelled back. "Asshole!"

"We had better go see what it is though, probably." Simmons pointed out. "So... Talk later, your quarters?"

"Sounds like a plan... Kissass."

"Fatass."

"On the double!" Sarge yelled, and they went to go see what all the fuss was about.

And maybe he did owe Tucker. Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at Supertinywords!
> 
> Requests are open and encouraged!
> 
> Comments are love <3


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